Silence
by Katia-chan
Summary: He hasn't spoken in 3 years, his father has given up on him and sent him to an asylum for "Professional help" Can he live in that little hellhole? And what about his roommate, may contain some romance, undecided
1. Default Chapter

Silence  
  
By Katia-chan  
  
A/N: This idea popped into my head whilest I was surrounded by a lot of over chlorinated water, so don't blame me for it's strangeness. This idea has been sort of making it's presence known, but never come into the exact form of the story that it's going to be in, so forbive me if it's a little strange. Everybody say hello to Maria Michella!...which I probably spelled wrong, she's my friend and she's new on ff.net. Hey nic!  
  
She's going to think I'm a complete nutcase for writing this, but no, I haven't gone more crazy then I already am.  
  
Enjoy this!  
  
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Silence, The act of being reduced to silence, mute, Quiet. Silence is one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. It's this sort of dark, but not the scary dark that you feel when you're stuck, nope, it's a comforting shielding darkness, like when you're hiding under the covers.  
  
I love everything to do with silence, which is probably one of the reasons I haven't spoken in at least 3 years.  
  
It's sort of become a trial for me, see how long I can keep to myself. I always thought, when I was younger that it would be horrible, but it suits me quite nicely. And anyway, who do I have to talk to anyway. My father isn't home, and I don't even think my friends remember that I existed. It doesn't bother me though, I can keep to myself, and no one notices. The teachers are beginning to get a little worried I think. Ok, a lot worried, for the last 3 years I've been going to the school counselor every day for an hour and a half. I'm supposed to sort out my issues and be back to a talkative child with many friends, medioker grades and a happy family. It makes me laugh hysterically when they talk about me. They think, because I don't talk, that I am stupid, or deaf or something. I can laugh at them, I'm not stupid, or deaf, or anything. A lot think I've gone insane. I haven't, just yet. I don't think about the time I stopped speaking. I keep that memory locked in the back corner in my mind where even my own thoughts don't go, and we seem to get along fine.  
  
I'm sitting on my bed now, just finishing my geometry homework when I hear my father call. My father? He hasn't been home for 6 months.wonder why he's home so early. I slam the book shut, the devils subject can wait till later.  
  
I run down the stairs. My father is standing in the kitchen, he has a nice tan, from Egypt, and his hands were very rough. He must've done a lot of digging. I walked over and gave him a hug. For a dad that's never home, he's a pretty good guy. Since he's never there when he comes home we get on very well. He holds me at arms length and looks me over. I think it's the archiologist in him, because it's not the look of a father appraising his son, it's the look of an archiologist discovering something very interesting. I give him a little smile.  
  
"Hello Ryou, how've you been?" I give him another little grin and instead of grinning back he sighs.  
  
"So, still not speaking?" I shake my head a little.  
  
"Ryou, I wish you would stop this. I want you to be happy, and healthy, and a normal kid." Normal? He didn't think this was normal? A 17 year old, short, skinny, pale and silent. Hmmm, something must be wrong with his sense of normal. To appease him I give him a little nod, but he's not convinced.  
  
"Will you say something? I miss hearing you talk." I simply stare at him.  
  
"Come on Ryou, say something, shout, yell, sing, chant, just do something!" he's upset. I think he takes my silence as a sign of bad parenting. That'd be a good thing to blame it on, he isn't a parent. He's a friend that stops by every once in a while and makes sure I'm still alive and paying the bills. Despite how much I want to say something, to aleaviate his pain at his failed son I can't. I guess it's because I still really don't want to. Life is so much simpler if you listen instead of talking. He sighs again and rubs his eyes, but he can't hide the tears from me. I give his hand a little squeeze, hoping to take his mind off the topic, but he looks down at me, a sad look in his eyes.  
  
"Ryou, I really hate to have to do this," Oh dear, he's going to put me in the special ed classes, he's going to make my sessions with the guidance counselor 3 hours. "I'm going to send you to get some help." I stare at him, what does he mean? I stare at him, confused.  
  
"I'm sending you to a temporary institution." What?! He's putting me in the luney bin! Oh, this is definitely not good. I shake my head vigorously and he gives me this stupid sad look that I can see through.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to do this, but it's been 3 years, and you haven't spoken a word. Your teachers are worried, and so am I. This is not normal." No shit this wasn't normal. Did he think it was normal to send your son to the asylum? Because that's what it was, he called it help, but it was an asylum.  
  
I decided then and there that I wasn't going.  
  
"We have to leave right now, I called the institution and they're hear, I had hoped you would be talking, and that we could have dinner, but I want you well son, I'm sorry." The door opened and 2 people came in. They were burly looking men who, apaun locking me in their sights, lunged at me and grabbed me. I have never fought so hard. They had each grabbed an arm and I kicked out at them. I got one in the knee and he dropped my arm. I tried to role out of the other man't grip. He grabbed tighter, until I planted my foot between his legs. He cried out in pain and I started to run, but the first guy jumped me, pinning me to the ground on my back. His weight on my chest was making it extremely difficult to breathe. He wrestles my arm from between us, and before I can think he's injected something into the crook of my elbow.  
  
Instantly the world begins to go fuzzy. I stop fighting, because I can't even lift my arms. Wow, whatever drug that was was really strong. I am vaguely aware of them lifting me off the ground and onto a stretcher. For a moment my father's face looms above me, with that stupid simpering sadness. I don't have much energy left from whatever they used, but I gathered the last of it and spit in his face.  
  
He draws back and they wheel me out to an ambulance. Once I'm in there I sort of slip deeper into confusion, I don't know where I am, and then it all goes black.  
  
As my head began to clear I heard muffled voices around me. I tried to blink, failed and just lay still, letting my brain adjust to where I was. At my first movement the voices stopped. I opened my eyes slowly and looked around, I was lying on a metal bed, with white sheets and White pillows, in a white room.  
  
"About time you woke up." I jumped and looked over. To my astonishment (I thought I was seeing things. The boy who sat on the bed next to me seemed to be my twin. His eyes were a little lighter, and harder then my own, and his hair looked silver instead of white. He was tanned, lean, dressed in baggy dark blue jeans and a black sweatshirt. Next to him sat another boy, his blond hair surrounding a tan face with eyes that looked like flowers. Lilac, I decided. He was wearing tight black jeans and a purple muscle shirt. His arms were adorned with thick gold bracelets and the single earing that hung from one ear looked heavy.  
  
I wanted to find out where I was.  
  
"I'm Bakura," the twin offered his hand, which I took a little hesitantly. "And this is Malik, resident nutcases."  
  
"Bakura, that doesn't even begin to sum it up." The blond boy's eyes glittered with laughter, but Bakura must've noticed my confused looks around.  
  
"Shut up Malik, Ryou,," I was startled that he knew my name. Bakura must've caught my look because he pointed at the door. A piece of paper stuck there with tape said "Bakura, Ryou."  
  
"I'm your room mate, they'll tell you to pretend it's camp, but it's not, it's hell." I nodded, after being tackled, drugged and left in an asylum by my father I had already guessed I wasn't in for a fun time. He gave me an appraising look that almost EXACTLY matched my fathers.  
  
"So, planning on saying anything?" I shook my head. Malik nodded, looking sadly at me.  
  
"He's like Isis Bakura." Bakura looked sadly at me. I was confused, who was Isis.  
  
"She's my sister, and she doesn't talk either." I nodded, wanting to meet another one like me.  
  
"So, that's what you're in for." Bakura said, as if just affirming a fact. I raised my brows at him, asking what he'd done to get sent to hell.  
  
He roled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal lines of cuts.  
  
"I'm sort of typical, but they thought I needed to be in here." I gestured at Malik.  
  
"Killed someone." He said softly. I was shocked. This boy, a killer?  
  
"No, it's not what you think, I'm not a killer, I just one night lost control, and killed my father. I've been over the urge to do it again, it made me sick after I did it, but they still think I'm a danger to society so they won't let me out. Which is fine with me, because now I can see Isis every day." He got a fond look on his face and I smiled a little. It was nice to see that look.  
  
There was a moment's pause when him and Bakura both fel silent, and then both of them smiled.  
  
"Well, speak of the devil." I turned to the door to see a girl standing there. She looked as if she'd had a tan once, but it had a pale look to it. Her glossy black hair hung around her face, which was very thin, and she was rocking slightly. Bakura jumped off his bed and went and hugged her, pushing hair out of her face. This was clearly Isis, and unlike me, it was clear that she hadn't locked the memory away. It haunted her. I could see it in her eyes and the timid way she stood. She gave Bakura a weak smile and walked in the room. She stood by Malik, running her fingers through his hair. He pulled her down so she sat on his lap and he fastened his arms around her waist.  
  
"Isis, this is Ryou, he's Bakura's new roommate, doesn't talk either." She looked at me and I felt understanding. She gave me a jealous look, and I could almost read her thoughts in her face /You managed to hide it, you rise, I fall/ It creeped me out, and I could tell from just this first meeting with these 3 people that this was going to be an interesting stay.  
  
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A/N: Ok, strange, but I hope yall like it. I think it turned out ok, but it's not going to get edited for a little while, I know I say that about everything, but I really mean it for this one, I do want to edit it, but I want to post it tonight and I have to get to hw and bed. Happy Sunday!  
  
TTFN  
  
Katia-chan 


	2. ch2

Silence  
  
By Katia-chan  
  
A/N: I know! It's been forever since I've updated, but I got caught up in other things, so don't kill me!  
  
So...yes, it's 12:30 in the morning and I'm writing about how Ryou's finally cracked sound fun?  
  
Why the hell am I rambling on? I need to begin, but first, Ryou, the disclaimer?  
  
Ryou: no way in bloody hell am I doing this again.  
  
Oh! Your British swearing is so kawaii! And why not?  
  
Ryou: Cuz last time I showed up your stupid fans, mine actually, came. You see how you like being called squishy!  
  
But it's so cute!  
  
Ryou: no, find someone else to do your Ra damned disclaimer.  
  
*sweatdrops* we must get you away from Bakura, fine. If you won't do the disclaimer, and Bakura is now god knows where, torturing some poor rodent or something, I'll do it myself.  
  
Disclaimer: Since my muses have so rudely abandoned me I must resort to my own brilliant invention *holds up sign that has some scribbles on it* there, see?  
  
Cali: Oh for the love of god, you can't even read it!  
  
That was the point.  
  
Cali: if you don't do it then I will.  
  
Fine, go right on ahead.  
  
Cali: Fine then, Katia-chan does not own Ygo, she does not own any of the chars used, and she does own the plot. If anyone tries to sue her she will shoot them with her bow and arrows. *listens* ha! If you lawyers think she can own it you've got another thing coming, she doesn't even own the dress she wore last night!  
  
Shut up now you random muse from hell.  
  
Cali: So glad my services are appreciated. See you all later! *disappears, taking the plot with her*  
  
Hey! Give that back! *chases*  
  
Ryou: *sighs* well, looks like she's taken after the many authoresses before her and abandoned her post, so I'll start this. She would first like to thank everyone who reviewed. She was shocked by how many people did. Now enjoy it!  
  
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We all stood and stared at each other for a moment. Isis's eyes wouldn't leave mine and I finally had to turn my head. A watch beeped and Bakura looked at his.  
  
"Oh, it's time for dinner, if you can call it that, come on Ryou, we'll show you where to go." Isis stood, not moving. Malik took her arm and slowly pushed her out of the room ahead of him. Her steps were reluctant, but she went. Bakura left next and I followed him.  
  
We got to the cafeteria and I have never seen such a weird place.  
  
The chairs were booths, rather then chairs, and the silverware at each place was wooden. People sat at tables, some chatting over plates of what I assumed to be food. I think the food was chatting back though, so I'm not sure what it was. Some were having conversations with themselves and others were simply staring blankly into space. Bakura went up and grabbed us each a plate. We went and joined Malik and Isis. Bakura pointed me to his side of the table and pointed at the plate.  
  
"Whatever you do, don't touch the yellow stuff. It's been known to have moved on its own, and I wouldn't eat it if I was at gunpoint." I stared. The plate had, on one part, something that resembled pasta, on another something I was almost sure was peaches, and then the dreaded yellow substance. I don't think I would've eaten it either. I picked up my fork and poked at the food. I wasn't really hungry, and realized that no one here was going to force me until they thought I had an eating disorder.  
  
"Don't you like it?" Malik asked, with a sarcastic look at my "Pasta" I shook my head and pushed the plate roughly towards him. He caught it before it flipped onto his pants and grinned at me, spooning a big mouthful into his mouth. His face changed and he grabbed a napkin and spat it out.  
  
"By the gods! I swear that stuff gets worse every time." Isis smiled a little bit and Bakura just downright laughed.  
  
"That'll teach you to steal food you glutton." He sniffed, poking Malik's stomach with his wooden knife.  
  
"Hey, at least I eat, I never see you do it, you just eat enough to keep yourself out of the anorexia ward."  
  
"Food doesn't sit well." He said.  
  
"Be that as it may, you might want to watch which utensil you use to stab me, the docs could get suspicious, and then you'd be in solitary before you could say," he didn't get to finish. My head snapped up sharply as someone screamed.  
  
It was a loud piercing scream and it made us all freeze. I looked around slowly to see a woman standing up, her plate shaking in her hands.  
  
"Where is Hoshi! What did you do with her! She was just here!" she screamed again and threw the plate down to the floor. "What did you do with my little girl! I want her back! I am a good mother! You can't keep her from me!" the woman's face was ghostly white and her eyes were wild. Bakura got up and hurried over to her.  
  
"Nori, Hoshi isn't here, she's at home safe and warm." He said, wrapping her in his arms. She screamed into his chest.  
  
"I want my little girl." She whimpered into his chest.  
  
"I know, I know, but she wants you to eat, now sit down while I go and get you some more food." He pushed her down and then went up to the front and got her another plate, after speaking with the cook momentarily. Malik saw me raise my eyebrows.  
  
"Bakura's been in and out of here so many times he knows almost everyone." Malik said. "That was Nori, she came here right after her 4 year old was killed in a drowning accident, that was 5 years ago, but she still thinks Hoshi is here and that people are hiding her." I sighed, that was so sad.  
  
Bakura came back and sat down. "I got her some sedatives in there; she'll be fine in a few minutes." Sure enough, as I watched the woman slumped to the table and a few orderlies came in and lifted her onto a stretcher and carried her out.  
  
"This happens a lot." Bakura said, "And it's useless telling her Hoshi id dead, she can't believe it, she just lost it and so we just have to make her feel safe again." I sighed. This place was laced with so much pain.  
  
I knew I had my own 2 cents to add to it, but I wasn't ready to acknowledge that yet. For now I was content to be the rebellious unspeaking child, and simply wait for the shit to hit the fan when I finally faced what it was. But that's not important now; I just have to choke down this pasta.  
  
()()()()()()()(()()()  
  
*still chasing her muse who is holding the plot over her head* get back here with that!  
  
Ryou: You don't have time to fight with her, you have 1 minute to finish this chapter.  
  
Right, well, sorry it was so short and a little odd. I just needed to update. I will update it sooner the next time and it will be longer. Review! *returns to the grand chase for the plot*  
  
TTFN  
  
Katia-chan 


	3. ch3

Silence

By Katia-chan

A/N: I decided it was time to dig up old fics from the pit and update them. I don't know how long the chapters will be, but I just had to do this. There are 4 fics that have been updated since last Christmas, and it's just killing my sense of duty. Doubtless all the people who started reading have long since grown up by now, but I have to try.

Just to mention it, since I seem to be having trouble with symbols the line breaks, which are usually marked by parentheses, will be marked by bbb. Until I get my act together and fix the problems.

Role fic!

Enjoy!

BBB

We finished our meal in silence and then Bakura walked me back to our room. A box sat on my bed and I stared at it reluctantly.

"From your dad?" Bakura asked, slipping out of his clothes, exposing neon pink boxers. I stared open mouthed at him and he laughed. "They were a present from Malik for my birthday. Don't worry, he now has a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers that he has to wear as long as I have to wear these.

I was relieved he had forgotten about the box, but I had to open it since it probably contained some of the necessary things that the oh so kind thug who had drugged me and carried me off hadn't given me much time to gather my things. I stared in dismay however, at the packing tape. Bakura looked over at me and laughed. "Sucks to finally realize that scissors are a thing of the past, doesn't it?" He grabbed the box from me and bit right into the packing tape. I heard it split and covered my mouth.

"It's ok, I have sharp teeth." He grinned at me, exposing I'd have to say, the most frightening set of teeth I had ever encountered. Feeling skeptical and a little worried I ripped from the bite mark he had made and got the thing open.

I turned it upside down, knowing my father wouldn't send anything breakable, luny bin rules. I pulled out an arm full of clothes, which I put into the drawers while Bakura sat cross legged on his bed watching me. Then I went back to the box and found toiletries and other useless things. After storing these I looked in, making sure I hadn't missed anything. On the bottom sat a thick leather bound book. I picked it up and opened it. I found a note in my father's neat scrawl.

BBB

Ryou,

I am so sorry it ever had to come to this, and I hope you can forgive me one of these days in the near future. I know this is for your own good and that you will get so much help at RiverSide. You are my only won, and I want to talk like we used to.

This is a journal I bought especially for you, so you can tell it everything that goes through your head, and then when you start talking to me again we can read it together and I can give you the advice a father should give. More of your books are on the way, probably tomorrow or the next day.

Try hard Ryou. Good luck!

Dat

BBB

I scowled at the book, slammed it shut and sent it crashing into the wall. How dare he act like I'd ever talk to him? How dare he assume that I would share my most private thoughts with him, the man who put me away? That filthy bastard!

Bakura stared at me, then at the book on the floor. "Don't write much?" he asked. I sighed and went into the bathroom, shutting the door and sitting on the floor in the corner. It was true, I didn't write much. I figured that if talking wasn't going to happen then there was no need to form my thoughts into words either. Words were written words were worse then speech. They stayed on the paper, and they didn't slip away on a breeze. They stayed on the page and haunted you, they made you relive and regret. No, I never wrote.

I got up, flushed the toilet and walked back out in the room. Bakura lay sprawled across his bed, his chest covered by a large bathrobe. He was studying a piece of paper and grinning.

"We got our schedules for the week, and I get doc Laymen. He's so fun to play mind games with." He looked overjoyed. I looked at my bed where my own paper sat. Picking it up I read to myself.

8:00 Breakfast

9:00 Group meeting

11:00 Lunch

12:00 therapy session with DR. Cramer

1:00 exercise in gym

3:00 study hall/freetime

5:00 group meeting with motivational speaker.

7:00 dinner

9:30 in rooms

10:00 lights out

11:00 sedation

I stared at the list. Good god, what a hellish day. "Don't worry about it Ryou, those things don't last as long as the schedules say they do. The only things that are ever ontime are the meals. The longest lasting, especially for people like me who enjoy torture is the private therapy session. Your first one will last quite a while, because they'll try to make a break through right away." He continued to speak, but I stopped listening, instead looking out the window. How could this have happened? I didn't understand, and I didn't want to be here. I wanted to be in my bed, in my house, in my own little bubble of calm and quiet.

It took me a second to realize that Bakura had stopped talking and was staring at me. He smiled sadly and got up, patting my shoulder. "It's ok, I know you miss being out of here. We all do, it's. just something you have to get used to." I stared up at him for a long time, studying the picture before me. His pale skin, so marred by lines, looked almost like the cracks in shattered glass.

I'm afraid I would have gone on with these musings if he hadn't suddenly looked at the door and jumped over my bed.

"Isis, what are you doing here? It's almost room time." I looked over to see Malik's sister. She stood in the door, wringing her hands and looking anxious. Bakura put a hand on her arm. "Is Malik at a late session?" She gave a tiny nod and Bakura sighed. "Come on, let's get you back to your room, I'll stay with you until he comes back." He lead her from the room and I watched them go. I didn't even want to think how long Bakura had been here, if he knew how to deal with someone like Isis. I didn't even know how to deal with myself yet, much less another nutcase like me.

I changed into my white silk pajama pants and, feeling to white, slipped on a red pair instead. One thing you could give the old man, he certainly knew how to pack everything.

I stood in the middle of the room for a minute, and then I just had to. I picked up the journal and found a pen on the desk and started writing on the pag4e across from my father's oh so sweet and meaningful note.

BBB

Father,

You'll never know what's wrong with me, because you couldn't understand.

BBB

I gritted my teeth, I couldn't say all I wanted to say here, the journal was listening, and to say them would mean to explain my reasons, or risk being called a hypocrite by my own psyche. Why did it have to be so hard to write a damned letter! I chucked it at the wall again, pen and all and just sat there for a mintute, then climbed into the sheets and stared angrily at the ceiling.

When Bakura came back later I pretended to be asleep. I saw him through a crack in my lids. He walked over, picked up the journal and pen, set them on the desk and turned around smiling at me.

"No worries kid, the words start coming again, I promise." I almost growled at him, but sleeping people don't growl, so I just tossed around a little and of course accidentally kicked the toothbrush holder off my bed and at him.

"Great, a wild sleeper. Remind me to buy you a stuffed animal next time I get out. It'd do me good." He turned out the light and the room was silent. I continued to brood for a little while longer and then slowly drifted off to sleep to the sound of Bakura's breathing.

BBB

A/N: Short and sweet, but it is something.

Review in any form, flame or otherwise. Please?

TTFN

Katia-chan


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